


Meet the Dawn

by freyjaschariot



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, post 8.03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:18:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjaschariot/pseuds/freyjaschariot
Summary: Killing she knew. But living? It terrified her.Arya and Gendry reunite after the battle.





	Meet the Dawn

The sun had stretched its rosy fingers across the frost covered ground by the time Jon finally stumbled into the godswood. He was met by a grisly sight. Theon, dead. Grey eyes glassy, armor caked in swiftly drying blood. All around him lay the other Ironborn, not a living soul among them. 

And yet there, in the shadow of the weirwood's pale trunk, sat his brother. Sat Bran. And he was alive. 

Staggering over to his brother’s chair, Jon fell to his knees beside him. Bran’s face was the same placid mask it had been ever since Jon had returned from Dragonstone. Serene as a still pond. Calm as the crimson leaves fluttering gently overhead. 

“How?” Jon gasped. 

Slowly, Bran turned his face to Jon’s, and for a moment, less than that, Jon thought he caught a hint of a smile play around the younger man’s lips as he said, “Arya. It was Arya.”

~~~~~~

Arya watched Jon enter the Godswood from the crumbling remnants of the maester’s tower. She hadn’t wanted to be there when the rest of the survivors arrived. She knew Bran would tell them what she’d done and she didn’t want to be lauded or congratulated. She had killed the Night King, yes, but not before too many had already died. And not before it had all come crashing down on her how very much she had to lose.

It was the moment after the Night King had exploded into a thousand glittering shards that Arya’s real challenge had begun. Without the nightmare of the long night to distract her, all she had left was the knowledge that she wanted to live. The realization had been percolating for a while, beginning the moment she had stepped through Winterfell’s gates all those months ago, and culminating the night before, as she lay wrapped in Gendry’s cloak while Gendry himself snored softly beside her. 

She wanted to live. She, Arya Stark. Not Arry, not Lanna, not No One. Arya. She just didn’t know how. For so long revenge had been her only goal. And she had been good at it. The best, some would say. Killing she knew. But living? 

It terrified her. 

“Arya?” 

Hand dropping to Needle, Arya whipped around, but it was only Gendry. Gendry! He was alive. A mess, but alive. Arya quickly catalogued his injuries—the dried blood caked to the side of his head, the pained way he held himself that indicated a broken rib or two. The rip in his left pant leg where more blood had seeped through, staining the fabric. He was bloodied and bruised but his life wasn’t in danger. Only once Arya had ensured herself of this, did her eyes return to his face. 

“You’re alive,” Gendry said. His eyes were soft as they watched her, a steady sea of blue calming her, anchoring her to the present. “I was afraid—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have been, I know. But I was.” The corner of his lips quirked. “Forgive me?” 

Did he know? Arya wondered. Could he read the change in her? Did she want him to? Her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips and shrugged, trying to school her face into a mask of indifference. Once it had been so easy but now... “I’ll consider it.”

He laughed and joy ballooned in Arya's chest at the sound. She took a step toward him, then faltered, second guessing herself once more. Thankfully, Gendry made up the difference and they ended up mere centimeters apart in the center of the room. Arya looked up into the face of the man who had been with her through so much and felt completely at a loss for words. How do you tell someone you want a future with them? That you want to wake up beside them every morning and go to sleep next to them every night? 

“Gendry, I—” 

This time it was Gendry who cut her off with a kiss. Arya leaned into it, surprised again by the softness of his lips, the gentleness of his hands cradling her face. 

“It’s okay,” he said, when they finally broke apart. “There’ll be time for all that later.”

He was right, Arya realized. There would be time. She might not know how to live, but she was willing to learn. Their battles weren’t over. There was still Cersei to defeat, her Golden Company bought and paid for. But suddenly Arya couldn’t find it in herself to worry. She wanted to live. And so she would, and she would do her damn best to ensure the people she loved did as well. 

Gendry held out his hand and Arya took it, reveling in warmth of his large hand enfolding her smaller one, and together they descended from the tower to meet the dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> what do you think? I'm crossing my fingers for some soft gendrya content in the next episode!


End file.
